


The Scent of Sugar Pine Got Me Fucked Up (And I Don’t Know Why)

by Boku_no_Botanist



Series: Bill Cipher Fell in Love [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Tentacle Dick, Wet Dream, no beta we die like men, not as introspective as the last one but definitely still horny, please be ready for mucho denial and himbo hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boku_no_Botanist/pseuds/Boku_no_Botanist
Summary: "Bill doesn’t want to go to sleep.Okay, that’s a lie, he actually wants to gear up for a mondo-big snooze session really bad, but - he can’t.Well, he could, but he can’t - not unless he wants to have another one of those… dreams.Bill Cipher simply does not want to fuck Pinetree.Nope, no way, nada - it just isn’t true."Bill is still horny (for Dipper, and he won't admit it), what a surprise!
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Series: Bill Cipher Fell in Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749775
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	The Scent of Sugar Pine Got Me Fucked Up (And I Don’t Know Why)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragon_goes_rawr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_goes_rawr/gifts).



> Part 3, finally yay!! Dedicated to my roommate who very much encouraged me to continue this series...
> 
> So this is just more Bill being an emotionally constipated horny mess of dream demon...
> 
> Also, I apologize for the use of the word 'kid' when in reference to Dipper, let me make it clear that Dipper IS AN ADULT in this timeline and has been for a while - Bill has just been used to referring to him a such, 'boy' doesn't fit right, 'man' is laughable and 'guy' is lame
> 
> I also apologize (not really, tho) for referring to Dipper mainly as 'Pinetree' throughout this installment. This is all taking place inside Bill's personal dreamscape, and he rarely refers to people by their real names.
> 
> Aside from these boring notes, please enjoy the fic! :>
> 
> \- Boki 🌸

**May 2018**

Bill doesn’t want to go to sleep.

Okay, that’s a lie, he actually wants to gear up for a mondo-big snooze session really bad, _but_ \- he can’t.

Well, he could, but he _can’t_ \- not unless he wants to have another one of those… _dreams_.

I mean are they really dreams? Calling them dreams would imply that the images Bill keeps seeing - the scenarios he’s seeing - are built off of his subconscious trying to make sense of something he refuses to acknowledge while he’s awake. 

But that cannot possibly be anywhere even remotely to the truth.

Bill Cipher simply does not want to fuck Pinetree.

Nope, no way, nada - it just isn’t true.

Sure, they’re bondmates but that whole situation is completely devoid of any sort of condition for a sexual relationship - the brat put him on a fucking magic ban within the first five minutes of understanding what rules the Axolotl placed on the bond.

Bill’s still fucking bitter about that by the way - six years after the fact, sure - but still bitter.

But regardless, the issue is that Bill refuses to sleep because he does not want to experience another one of those dreams again.

So here he is, sitting alone on the couch in Pinetree’s apartment in complete darkness at 10 pm, fingers digging into his slacks because he is nearing the three-week mark of no sleep within the next hour, and he’s _struggling_ . Mortal bodies suck, even mortal-ish bodies like the one he crafted _suck_ \- they _need_ sleep, like an addiction! A natural, incurable addiction! Simply awful!

He has to stay vigilant! One second too long in his thoughts and the next thing he knows, he gets caught up in a new dream and he’s been in his dreamscape for seven hours while his body’s been clocked out on the couch the entire time. It’s what happened the last two times he managed to sleep.

But it’s hard because his own thoughts are the most entertaining thing he has in all honesty.

Pinetree was out again for a study group session. Something about some upcoming “finals” or whatever. Just more human society nonsense in his opinion. Whatever it was, it was why the kid was out of the flat. And why Bill was all alone, having the mental fight of his immortal life.

He still can’t believe the ridiculousness of it all. The reason he’s so reluctant about falling asleep is because he’s having fantasies - really hot and intense fantasies, mind you - about screwing his bondmate. For nearly five months now.

Are you fucking serious?

Granted, five months should seem like nothing to Bill considering how long he’s been alive, but spending over six years with the Pines Twins has really made time seem to slow down for him, so… five months doesn’t seem like nothing anymore. And it fucking _sucks_ , it ridiculous.

But yeah, so for the past five months, every time he’s gone to sleep, it’s been one sex dream after another. He’s been asleep a total of eight times - including the first dream - and each one played out the same: some insanely fast and hot fuck with Pinetree before he abruptly wakes up from the shock it gives his system before he has to embarrassingly go finish himself in the bathroom.

Pinetree knows nothing about this, though, and thank Axolotl that he never will. He knows he’s been careful. He’s only ever passed out when Pinetree was out of the apartment. Only clue he could have would be the faint spikes in the bond, but… Pinetree hasn’t said anything for months. 

He hopes he’s still in the clear. He has to be. He might die if he isn’t.

Okay, maybe not literally die, he’s still got like two or three hearts left, but - like - the mental stress is not welcome, alright?

He needs to stop thinking about them.

But he _can’t_ . They’re so strange - and hot - but strange (and _hot_ ) - the whole thing is extremely frustrated, his mind is in a swirl of irritation about the whole situation while his lower half (which he never really paid that much attention to) seems to think every dream’s a freaking party.

His lower half also makes thinking very difficult. By this point, Bill’s understood that all his ichor seems to travel down during these dreams.

It’s extremely inconvenient.

But he’d be a liar if he didn’t acknowledge that he’s had a bit of a learning curve in regards to how fucking horny he actually is because _shit_ \- the things he’s fantasized about doing with Pinetree - _to Pinetree_.

A few of the dreams had instances where he had Pinetree face down on his own bed, and there was just something about the loud squeak the springs made when the bed frame was rocked just a little bit too hard that made Bill want to keep doing it. 

The moans that filled his ears may have also been a greater motivator, though. Who knew he was such a pleaser (redact that thought from the record, he’s a selfish dream demon, he only does anything for himself, yeah).

He also had a thing for getting his back and thighs torn up by nails scratching at him for some sort of grip - so he’s a bit of a masochist but that was a given, knowing him. But he also did things to specifically make Pinetree lose his grip, forcing him to cling onto nothing and ride out for the best - so a bit of a sadist, too.

Or maybe he’s just an asshole - both!

He feels his stomach clench when the recollection of the dream where he ate Pinetree out flashed across his mind’s eye. He explored every fucking nook and crany within that soft, pliant body before him and grinned (as much as he could with his tongue at work) as it became tense and rigid against him, porcelain thighs claiming tight around his head as he heard a high pitched keen before Pinetree finally let go and slid off his tongue in a twitching mess with a thin spatter of white trailing down his heaving torso as he looked at Bill with an open mouth and those lidded eyes filled with heat -

Okay, okay, slow down, Cipher! Rein it back in and keep it together. Shit, that was two months ago, and it’s still his favorite dream - if he was a fan of the dreams, which he _isn’t_ . He’s _not_ . He _doesn’t_ like the dreams.

Maybe he likes them a _little_ bit, and that’s why he’s so frustrated.

As he had more dreams, the Pinetree in them got progressively more assertive and proactive in the fantasies. No more was it Bill just stumbling upon him in some black void while molten heat curled at his insides telling him to pull the human close and consume him. Now there was a setting - somewhere in the apartment - and a lead up - Pinetree being a fucking _tease_.

And maybe the Pinetree in the dreams was aggressive and provocative because the whole theme of these dreams was some lusty want, and Bill just couldn’t be the only one in his dreamscape eager to fuck.

If Bill was horny, then so was dream Pinetree, and they were going down together.

But, yeah, dream Pinetree was a tease, a damn tease who knew absolutely what he wanted from Bill and just how fucking _easy_ it was to get it. It was ridiculous.

The staple to it was dream Pinetree was almost always naked (ready), and when he wasn’t, it was because he was wearing a single article of clothing that was _begging_ to get ripped off (so still ready) - Bill didn’t realize that clothing had that sort of appeal until the dreams.

Another staple was that dream Pinetree made it very obvious that he knew Bill was there and that he knew what he wanted.

The last dream Bill had was also very pleasant. Right near the middle of April, always rainy, overcast - left the apartment in a constant overlay of blue-ish gray. His dream had reflected that reality.

But Pinetree was always bundled up, because a draft always managed to weasel through the seams of the flat and brought that cool, rainy chill that he couldn’t stand without a few thick layers and a blanket.

Dream Pinetree was anything but bundled up.

Bill actually thought he was still awake when his dreamself walked into the kid’s room and saw (was graced with?) Pinetree standing near the edge of his bed, dressed in only an open button-up. He quickly realized that he was dreaming again at that point.

Pinetree had glanced at him with that heart-stopping molten gaze before _smirking_ and looking away, turning his head down to focus on buttoning up his open shirt - and a rush of indignation and betrayal had consumed him because when had Bill said that he could fucking do that? He did not recall even speaking to him yet.

But Pinetree had ignored him so easily and just kept hiding more and more skin (which was always pretty in-character for him (the ignoring, not the teasing). But the last straw was when Pinetree had unnecessarily - but absolutely on purpose - placed a foot on the edge of his bed for balance (?) as he reached for a pair of pants. The movement - which Bill was intensely trained on - caused the shirt to ride up, exposing the remainder of his thigh and gave just a peek of his perfectly smooth ass.

Needless to say, that had escalated the dream quite drastically because before Bill could even realize that he moved, he already had Pinetree’s back to bed with that teasing leg gripped in the air while his other hand tore the collar of that fiendish shirt off, exposing that creamy smooth neck, ready to get nettled and bruised with teeth and tongue -

Bill needs to really stop getting caught up in these recollections. The thing that sucks about being a dream demon is that he actually _can’t_ forget his own dreams. He doesn’t deal with forgetting, he remembers it all clear as day. If he gets caught up in another one of these dream recollections, he’s going to end up in his dreamscape again having unknowingly fallen asleep _again_ just like the last two times -

And dream Pinetree is on the couch next to him _fucking Axolotl dammit!_

How is he asleep?! When did he fall asleep?! Everything around him looks exactly like in the actual apartment. 

The growing deception and realism in these dreams should definitely be concerning now.

But what else can he do at this point? Too late to turn back now, he’s already succumbed to several hours of unconsciousness. Might as well mark down dream #9 and get it over with...

On second thought, _no_. Fuck this. Dream Pinetree can only entice him if he lets him. It has no real power over him. Bill just has to not be horny.

It can be that easy, right? _Right?!_

Don’t look at him, Cipher. Don’t, not even a spare glance from the corner of your eye. If you do, you’re a goner, just like all the other times. Don’t make this sex dream number nine, _don’t!_

There is something really weird going on because he’s smelling Pinetree’s scent a lot more strongly than he usually does during the dreams. That enticing scent of sweet pine bark and worn leather that he knew so strongly to be Pinetree. Like he really was lying down on the couch next to him instead of Bill just being trapped in the recent lustful hell of his own dreamscape.

A shift of movement catches his attention, he makes the mistake of glancing down because _shit, fuck, oh no_ Pinetree’s bare legs are on his lap - why do his bare legs matter? Fucking because the dreams have made him realize how little of Pinetree’s skin Bill has actually seen throughout their years together and he’s a little ~~intimidated~~ frustrated about how much Pinetree with more visible skin makes his prick perk up in attention. Anyway, his legs are on his lap, moving, _sliding across his slacks dangerously close to the rising bulge behind them_ \- fuck this!

And Bill makes another mistake because he lets himself get pulled by the line of Pinetree’s legs and well, there, now he’s looking at him. Pinetree’s draped across the cushions, completely naked with only a bent knee blocking his intimate half from Bill’s sight - but not by much.

His skin is completely unmarked, smooth and pale, with the delicate splatter of freckles and a healthy hue of rogue across the tips of his person - checks, nose, shoulders, fingertips, and whatever else.

Pinetree isn’t looking at him initially, but he suddenly turns his head in Bill’s direction, and _wow_ , the demon’s never twisted his neck around that fast before.

Bill looks away because he doesn’t want to meet the dream version’s gaze, and he may have fucked up already by looking, but he is _not_ going to get caught up in this parade again. Nope, his prick can be mad at him when he wakes up, but he’s not going through this shit again. It’s far too troublesome. He refuses to succumb to these stupid, primitive desires for a ninth time! He can “blue-ball” himself or whatever it’s called if it means he doesn’t have to awkwardly stalk to the bathroom in a few hours to take care of himself.

He feels himself tense when he sees Pinetree move in his periphery. He tries not to leer, but it’s difficult. Pinetree is all unblemished skin, it’s extremely annoying to just leave it all untouched.

~~He wants to bite it so badly.~~

He’s also tense because dream Pinetree hasn’t said a word yet. As the dreams progressed, the kid was a bit (a lot) more vocal. Sometimes he got quite a bit profane, but that was usually after Bill had him bent in half. But even before the dreams escalated to that point, Pinetree would always say something with some fein of suggestiveness. The last dream was the only exception, so far. The unpredictability is what leaves Bill on edge. He tries to not look phased as he senses the kid walk behind the couch.

And suddenly he feels Pinetree’s hands coming from behind and trailing down his shirt as he presses his tongue against Bill’s neck, licking a hot stripe up towards his chin before nipping at his jawline.

He did acknowledge that Pinetree was getting more aggressive as the dreams went on.

But _damn_ he really doesn’t know how to prepare himself for this type of assault. Though, his prick doesn’t seem to be complaining about the turn of events. Selfish, simple fucking appendage… literally.

He does his best not to react, hoping the tensing in his jaw is enough to deflect the pecks and nips calling on his jawline. The sweet bark scent keeps flooding his nostrils.

_Restraint. Restraint. Restraint._

Maybe if he kept screaming the word at himself, he might actually make it. A fool’s hope at this point, but Bill was an admitant fool.

After what feels like forever, he finally feels Pinetree peel himself off of his back. However, his sigh of relief is stifled in his throat when he sees the kid climb back over the couch and settle right down next to him, creamy white skin back in his line of sight, tantalizing and torturous.

Can’t he catch a break?

But Pinetree has no plans to sit back and tease Bill with a simple view, _no_ , he can’t. He likes to get up close and personal this time.

Last dream, Bill got to fulfill the desire to rip his clothes off. Apparently, Bill also has a desire to have his own clothes get pried off.

Pinetree presses up against his side, curling a long leg over his lap - a pretty, pale thigh draped over the twitching bulge in his slacks, a faint patch of dark color slowly expanding over the fabric.

Bill has the instinctual urge to push him away, but he knows that would be a mistake - the movement would get turned into a stab at foreplay and then Bill was done for. So he stays still, willing himself to stay still, _stay still stay still stay_ -

He feels a hand latch onto his back, nails digging and pulling at him through the shirt as another hotly palms down his abdomen, fingers teasing at where his shirt tucked into his sash. Meanwhile, Pinetree makes a swift journey nipping along Bill’s neck and jaw until he reaches his ear before taking his earring into his teeth and giving a vindictive tug.

Dream Pinetree is fucking mean.

Maybe Bill wants him to be.

The kid gives another particularly vicious nip to Bill’s ear that makes him want to return the favor _so bad_ , before pulling his head back and looking up at the demon. The look in his lidded eyes is contemplative, scrutinizing ~~and borderline intimidating~~

That molten gaze of amber and peridot nearly melts Bill on the spot every time - _this shit isn’t fair_ -

“When are you gonna screw me?”

It takes him a good solid five seconds for the question to process in his head, and another solid, literal _five seconds_ for him to realize that the question was directed at him.

Don’t be dumb. “What?”

Bill, you’re so fucking dumb.

Pinetree’s brows furrow, and his lips bunch into a faint pout and Bill has the instantaneous killer urge to hit them… with his own lips… because he’s horny…?

This situation is getting dangerous (it already was).

“You don’t usually last this long,” Pinetree continues, glancing down towards the bulge in Bill’s pants. “By this point, I’ve got my ankles up around my head -”

“Stop.” he manages to bite out.

That makes the kid’s face turn sour, “Why? It’s true. What’s the holdup?”

As he says it, he moves to straddle Bill’s hips, rolling his ass on the bulge in the demon’s pants, making him hiss between his teeth.

Bringing himself close, he breathes hotly into the demon’s ear, “You think I can’t see how hard you’re trying to keep yourself still?”

Bill bites back a groan, drawing back his lips in strain.

Pinetree leaves a quick peck at his jaw, “I know why you’re trying so hard not to put your hands on me.”

He drags his hand down, down, _down_ past Bill’s shirt and sash, somehow weaving between the articles of clothing and reaches down into the demon’s slacks, cupping at his prick that’s been eagerly waiting for some action.

Breath coming out in huffs, he can’t help but let his jaw fall slack as he feels his prick tangle in the other’s fingers, practically going nuts from the friction and the heat.

Pinetree gives his hips a long, slow roll along Bill’s side, pressing more heat against him, cornering him like prey.

Breath hot in his ear, the tease continues, “Because you won’t be able to take your hands off of me if you do.”

_Restraint restraint Bill fucking Cipher keep your fucking restraint Axolotl please dammit!_

He sucks in a harsh breath when he feels Pinetree’s hand pull out of his pants, away from his begging prick, and he makes the mistake (what a shocker) of focusing on where that hand was going.

He watches, pitifully lost in a cruel trance as Pinetree contemplates the golden precum slicked on his own fingers before turning to look Bill in the eyes as he laps the fluid off of his hand like it’s syrup.

Something very important in Bill just snapped. Oh yeah, his fucking restraint.

But he doesn’t react immediately to it, he still has to process that it snapped. In that time, Pinetree sighs, some fein of disappointment and boredom, retreating to lying back down on the couch, resting his legs on Bill’s lap once again. He pouts, gaze askance from Bill’s general direction, looking into the blurry haze of the rest of the imaginary living room.

Bill wants to say that he feels a mix between falling down onto him and violently jerking his whole body into the kid’s space. He feels almost out of body again before he actually recognizes that he’s gripping this dream minx version of his Pinetree flush to his chest as his nose is pressed as far against the kid’s nape as he can get - huffing in that scent of sugar pine and leather like it’s dearly needed air.

“And there it is,” Pinetree sighs like a song, Bill can see the grin on his face without even looking. “You can only last for so long --”

A moan stutters out of him when one of Bill’s hands reach around to clutch at his neck, jerking his head around to meet the heated gaze of a single golden eye, slitted in both want and annoyance.

They’re a breath apart, lips just a jerk away from crashing together, but some petty drive in the demon makes him take a savage nip at Pinetree’s jaw, pulling a sharp gasp from him - one filled with unmasked need. When he looks back into the human’s unfocused and want-filled eyes, he fills the pettiness return with different desire.

He curls his tongue out, slowly licking across the slightly parted seam of Pinetree’s lips, earning him a stuttered breath from the human.

His claws tighten slightly on the kid’s neck as he steadily declares, “I’m gonna wreck you.”

Pinetree doesn’t say anything to that at first, but somehow Bill can smell a rush of arousal and sweet, sweet sugar pine fill his nostrils right as the kid lifts a leg and curls it over one of Bill’s thighs, spreading his legs open wide as he reaches a hand down to palm at the demon’s prick. He wastes no time in working between the layers of clothing and pulling down at the front of Bill’s slacks, his dick wound tightly around his wrist.

The demon hisses as he feels his prick being led back to the curve of Pinetree’s ass and barely manages to see the kid trail his slick-coated fingers along his own body, leaving a trail of gold along his own shoulder before bringing the digits to his mouth again, flicking his tongue at them while meeting Bill’s gaze.

“Good.”

The next few moments happened to Bill in some sort of haze - he’ll remember it all later, but in the moment, it’s a flurry of actions. He knows that he pulled Pinetree’s head back by the hair, exposing the column of his neck to his teeth before most of his vision becomes blurry from keeping his face buried close to the scent of sweet pine that kept getting stronger and stronger with every passing second.

His hands stayed stagnant, gripping Pinetree still as he ground his hips against the other, letting his prick weave and curl around the smooth, warm globes of the latter’s ass, making it a mess of slick and friction.

He’s chasing that tight heat again, just like the last eight times, he wants that heat on his dick so bad, _needs it_. Pinetree will give it to him, he has to give it to him, ~~he’s the only one who can~~ \--

He can feel the heat curling, lapping at his insides with vigor. It spikes as he feels Pinetree’s fingers dig into his sides, trailing scratches along the stretch of his muscles - the nerves in his body cry out in discomfort and he loves it. Pinetree could scratch his skin off into a bloody mess and he’d smile.

 ~~This is going too far, Cipher, stop~~.

But he can’t because he’s too busy being smothered by that wonderful scent of sugar pine, rich and heady and consuming. It’s concentrated so thickly at his neck, rushing from the pulse points, screaming for attention. He wants to give them attention, lave them with his tongue and bite down, tasting the blood that would be just as sweet as the smell. 

He knows the scent is stronger lower down, he’s tasted it before in his other dreams - ~~it was great~~. And oh how he loved the screams he could rip out of Pinetree - ~~those were fantastic~~. But he doesn’t want to move, he almost feels trapped but no, he just doesn’t want to move them, they’re both fine, rutting against one another on the couch, getting slick and sweaty like filthy animals.

Bill has no desire other than to chase that delicious feeling of release, he can feel the heavy twitch of his prick, a trait he quickly learned was a sign that he was close. He tightens his grip on Pinetree, crushing him against his chest while he brings a hand down to claw at his thigh, pulling the limb away further, exposing more of that delicious sweet pine to the air and to Bill. He quickens his pace against the latter’s backside, groaning at the sticky feeling. 

He hasn’t entered the kid, but he still feels like his prick is straining, tightly confined between him and Pinetree, going nuts from friction and heat.

He hears a faint gasp from the kid’s throat and the sound makes his ears twitch and heat.

~~Cipher, you gotta stop.~~

“Bill,” Pinetree moans out, tensing rapidly against him, “please don’t stop.”

Screw the voice in his head, he’ll listen to the human.

He keeps rutting against the other, roughly and quickly snapping his hips against Pinetree’s because holy shit the feeling of his prick sliding right between his ass is wonderful. He loves this heat, this stuttering friction, this feeling of complete lack of control.

More, please more, please, _please please please -_

And then it is almost too much. His mouth tears away from the latter’s throat, and he grits his teeth with a hiss as his whole body tenses alongside the other’s. His breath steams hot between his teeth as he heaves, his chest rising up and down from the exertion. When he opens his eye again, it’s unfocused, and he’s blinking away a wetness. Tears? Really? No way, he wouldn’t believe it. 

Pinetree is softly twitching alongside him, sweet puffs of air falling from his open lips. The knowledge that he did that makes him groan, pressing his slightly damp forehead against the back of the latter’s nape.

Axolotl, _why can’t this be real?_

A tired laugh vibrates from the body next to him, and Bill cannot help but be confused. What is with the laughter? And for some reason it sounds a bit distant, as if Pinetree is getting away even though he’s laying right down next to him. Strange.

“Oh, don’t worry.” he’s getting farther away but he’s right here? Wait why does he feel like he’s wearing layers, he’s naked. And don’t worry about what? Wait, did he actually say the last bit out loud? No, Axolotl, tell him that he didn’t.

A final, distant sigh reaches his ears as the feeling of fabric irritates his skin, “It can be real soon.”

And he’s awake.

He opens his eye easily, as if he had only blinked. And he quickly registers that the faint-but-echoey panting is coming from himself. His skin feels slightly clammy, as if he’s been moving around a lot.

He then takes that moment to realize that he isn’t hard. He can feel it. Or, in this case it’s a lack of feeling it that is the relief. What a wonderful occasion, for once, no awkward tentacle boners after sleeping.

He shifts a leg - _wait_ , shit, nevermind. Disgusting, he came in his pants. He knows that he can use magic to clean it off but he’s gotta be selective about that shit. Dipper still had the “unnecessary use of magic” ban on him and he doesn’t want to explain why their is a semi-fluorescent golden fluid in his nice black slacks --

And then he understands that he’s lying down on his side, on the couch he’s lying down on the couch. There’s an irritating faint glow of the television, volume down inaudibly low, in the distance that makes him grimace, but not before the confusion takes over his mind once again. His arms are wrapped quite tightly around something. It smells sweet, but woodsy --

_Sugar pine, worn leather._

~~Someone.~~ Please, _no_.

He tries amazingly not to freak out, and he’s delighted about how well he is able to hold it together - because he felt like his last remaining hearts had stopped for a good minute - when he cranes his neck to look over the dark mass wrapped in his arms, breath coming out in undisturbed sighs.

Pinetree - Dipper. It’s fucking Dipper. He’s right there - _why is he there? He was supposed to be out_! When did he even get back? It doesn’t make sense…

But for a second, maybe it does?

 _Stop that!_ He needs to get off the couch, away from the kid.

He’s more relieved when he takes the chance to listen to Dipper’s heartbeat, checking thoroughly to make sure that the kid was actually asleep because he would actually die if he was awake. The questions, the unwanted answers, the awkwardness (as if his current predicament wasn’t anymore upsetting), and so on and so forth.

He’s able to untangle himself from the other, quite easily, and he quickly goes to another room, the bathroom. His only true refuge in recent times. Now he understands why the twins coveted their bathrooms as “sanctuaries” - he thinks that he gets it now. The freedom, the security, the comfort.

Now Bill can run amuck with his thoughts. Carrying on with the show, back to the special programing of _what the fuck was that?!_

“What the fuck was that?” now he hears himself ask the question, staring himself down, wide-eyed in the bathroom mirror.

Who is he kidding, he’s kinda dumb sometimes, but he isn’t an idiot.

He rutted against Dipper in his sleep. While they were both sleeping.

But how? He has to speculate because this scene is going to make a mockery of him and he demands answers.

Dipper was at a study group - _but he never said when he’d be back_. Noted.

Okay, so Dipper returns from the study group. He’s tired, but wants a chance to lie down and relax, maybe watch one of his shows. Bill recalls that the channel on the TV was the one that Dipper always liked. So he watches his shows: he sits down on the couch - _he gets comfortable by using me as a leg rest_. Bill had either just succumbed to sleep or was still in deep recollection - too far gone to have noticed a non-threatening creature like Dipper slip by.

And maybe that’s where the sudden rise of the sugar pine had come from - Dipper was literally back in the apartment, laying down on the couch. Eventually, he fell asleep, too.

Bill knows that while his dreams feel fast to him, it’s quite slow. He must have actually resisted dream Dipper’s antics for a while, long enough for Dipper to have fallen completely asleep before Bill had unknowingly pounced.

And he realizes that he had grossly been lead by his stupid demon hindbrain - literally following Dipper’s scent and gripping onto him before mercilessly humping him like some animal.

~~It was really great though.~~

This was a bad night. Ninth dream, narrowly dodged awkward and potentially hurtful situation because Bill still doesn’t know how okay Dipper is holding up from that frat party back in December. If he’d woken up at any point in time while Bill was dreaming --

For some reason, something awful and guilty curls in Bill’s gut.

 _You have to do something about it now, Cipher_ , he lambasts himself mentally. Because it’s true. Something needs to be done.

Clearly he needs to get laid. He wants to be, subconsciously that’s what he’s being told.

But it’s also obvious to him that Dipper is being used as the subject of his lust because they’re so close. He’s the only one that is truly familiar with Bill - and their bondmates, it’s natural. But that’s not fair, and it’s not right. 

It's not true. ~~Liar~~

He needs to take care of this pronto. Ideally within the next three weeks before he and Dipper have to head back to Gravity Falls for the summer.

Oh, wait a minute, what’s the thing humans do when they're horny and want a partner for the night? One-night stands? _Yeah, that’s the ticket!_

He’ll just do that. Problem solved. After that, no more sex dreams.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> [1/20/2021 EDIT]  
> I would appreciate y'all's comments! :>
> 
> WIPdates on my profile!
> 
> \- Boki 🌸


End file.
